Friday, November 18, 2005

"I'm not looking at you...hehehe"

Ugh. It was a busy day today.

Went to two writing workshops - Coyote's Ekphrasis workshop (Got a little writing out of that) and Julie, Gary's and Erika's Writing Crossing Writing workshop (Got some nice exercises for teaching out of that).

Went to three readings - Noyes (Fiction), Memmer (Poetry) and Looney (Poetry). All were very good... the latter was long, very long.

Went to a rummage sale - paid $20 for a cool fake kewpie doll. It's really creepy, but pretty sweet. Just look at the picture at the top, It's like it's saying "I'm not looking at you... hehehe" and then it pulls a scythe from behind its back and hacks off its own head, which grows legs and arms and becomes another doll and the headless body grows another head and they both come after you... okay... maybe that's extreme. But the doll is fing creepy.

And tomorrow is equally long, if not longer. But it's fun. I have to be up at 6:30am.

2 Comments:

Thanks for the well wishes on my blog and welcome to the blogpsphere! So glad that Winter Wheat is interesting, even if it's tiring! Sounds like our panel went well. I hope so, I felt so badly leaving Jules and Erika, but I knew they'd kick butt anyway.

Anyhoo, things are going well here. As well as can be expected anyway. Will be back Sunday evening. See you sometime early next week. Again, thanks for the prayers and well wishes. Means a lot to me.

I actually think your Kewpie is cute, but in a weird, slightly deranged way.

I'm putting the raffia angel in my newly-created "inspiration corner," next to my root and jar of seashells. I really liked your session, especially the worksheet. I'm a huge fan of worksheets. Let's bring worksheets back to creative writing, dammit!

I liked Tom Noyes (bring in da Noyes! bring in da funk!). He was modest, but could have been a bit more lively. But he was probably just tired. I wasn't really a big fan of Memmer--he reminded me of this guy I dated who was very earnest but utterly lacking in humor. His poetry was technically working, but it wasn't super exciting. George came off as a dear, dear person who really has faith in what poetry can do. Edith's fiction was pitch-perfect. She is exactly the kind of classy, dignified elderly lady I want to be. Aimee is like that girl who I'm supposed to hate because she's so thin and pretty and talented, but I can't hate her because she's so sweet and gracious and kind. And talented.

That dude at the open mic made me clench every muscle in my body so tight that I almost gasped with relief when he was done.

Nick is really awesome for sitting with me for, like, an hour and a half, in that cold-ass and virtually deserted book fair room.

I was going to come out to Beckett's for a drink tonight after the open mic, but when I got home and ran water in my kitchen sink, I discovered that the pipe under the sick had come apart and there was an inch of water in the cabinet under the sink. I had to call my landlord at home to come fix it.